The days before you
by K.M Dawson
Summary: John has waited for almost 3 years for Sherlock to come back. will he ever, or will John have to admit that he is gone, and live life without his precious Sherlock?
1. Chapter 1

"John, why aren't you taking your pills? You know that they'll stop your nightmares. "

"I... I just can't bring myself to do it... If I stop having the nightmares, then I won't see his face anymore. I can live through the night if it means seeing his face just one more time. To hear his voice, and maybe feel his lips on mine, even if it is just a dream. All I want to do is tell him how I felt, how I still feel, and it doesn't feel right saying it to a grave marker. For some reason, I can't bring myself to believe that he is dead."

"John, that is very normal, you are in denial, it happens to the best of us."

"I'm not in denial, I know he's alive, and I know that he's coming back for me one day. He made me swear that I would keep faith for 3 years. If anything should happen to him, I was to give him 3 years to make his way back to me. "

"John, it has been almost 3 years to the day. This friday, I believe."

" Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I'm not counting the days, hoping beyond hope that he'll come home?! Do you really know nothing at all?" I grab my coat and rush out of the room, and go to the only place that offers me any comfort. It's close enough to walk, even with the limp that has come back since Sherlock fell.

I push back the heavy metal gate and walk through, and start making my way to the big willow tree. I sit with my back against the cool marble. "You know, sometimes I think I hear you playing the violin, and I rush upstairs as fast as my legs can take me, but you stop playing, its like a reminder to myself that your still dead, and I'm still on the side of the living. There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, crying and screaming your name, and I swear I can hear footsteps on the hallway floor. But there is never anyone there. Your deadline is fast approaching Sherlock, and I hope for my sake that you meet it. I miss you.


	2. Feelings

For John, the next few days were spent sitting the Sherlock's chair, staring at the door. He didn't sleep, hardly ate, and the only person he saw was Mrs. Hudson when she came up to tidy the flat. Sometimes, John hated his hope and blind optimism, but he couldn't bring himself to give it up. Hell, he'd even spray-painted his beliefs all over London. I believe in Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty was real were now common sightings under bridges and sides of buildings. The oldest being the one that was painted with yellow paint, on the side of St. Bart's hospital. It was by far the shakiest. John had barely managed to paint through the sobs that were wracking his body. Lestrade turned a blind eye towards that one, but happily joined in after.

As much as they hated to admit it, Donovan and Anderson kind of missed Sherlock. Even though they made fun of him, didn't nessissarly mean they hated him. If they were going to be totally honest, both of them would admit to liking him, to a degree. They had never truly appretiated Sherlock and all the help that he gave, until he was no longer there to give it.

For Lestrade, losing Sherlock, was like losing a son. Ever since he found Sherlock that night, almost 15 years ago, strung out on more drugs then he could name, he felt a connection. Not a romantic one, but one that expressed his desire to help the kid get better. Until the day that Sherlock jumped, every moment, every case, was in attempt to keep Sherlock away from drugs. After John came along, the cases weren't the only thing keeping the young man sane, but the friend he had come to find in John. In a way, John had healed more then Sherlock's dependency on drugs, he healed a part that everyone thought did not exist, his _heart. _

With Sherlock gone, it seemed like John's heart went with him. He continued helping Lestrade with cases, but seemed removed. He never stayed longer then he had to. Nobody knew that his attachment to Sherlock was so deep, and so strong. Totally and completely unbreakable. He just missed Sherlock so damned much. All John knew now was, if Sherlock didn't make his deadline, and he really was dead, John was gonna follow him.


End file.
